


sick of work

by izurulovesboats



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Fever, M/M, Mutual Pining, Probably ooc, Sharing a Bed, Sickfic, Xephos is an alien, as per ususal, moonquest based, self indulgent as fuck but thats how it be sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 00:15:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17415299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izurulovesboats/pseuds/izurulovesboats
Summary: You'd think Xephos would take care of himself better when you're planning on getting to the moon. He is, quite frankly, a dumbass.





	sick of work

**Author's Note:**

> me: oh no i'm not gonna write smth self indulgent for my first legitimate ao3 fic  
> me: does it anyway

As he wakes up, his head feels heavy. Pounding, almost. He can't seem to remember what happened in the last hour, perhaps he had a drink the night before? As his eyelids heavily open, he wants to close them again. Sleep in a little bit more, maybe he can get away with taking a break from the rocket for a few hours. As he closes his eyes again, something forces them open as he fails at breathing in through his nose, causing him to harshly choke on air for a few seconds.

 

“Xephos?” As he recovers from his mishap with oxygen, he turns his face away from the wall where the bed is touching and to the rest of the room. Near the door, Lalna seems to have brought in a chair from the entrance to the fort, sitting in it backwards. _Great,_ he thought, _Lalna’s here to witness me die of the common cold._ “Are you alright?” He looked worried. Almost, in Xeph’s opinion, more than he should be.

 

“I’m--” He interrupts himself with coughing, burying his head in his pillow while he attempted to muffle the sound of him hacking up a lung. His luminescent freckles, trailing from all the way up his ears to across the bridge of his nose and to the other ear were dim, flickering every time a cough shook him. WIth his head still buried deep into the pillow, he groans, then looking up at Lalna only so he could slightly see a third of his face, “I’m fine.”

 

Lalna sighs, getting up and sitting near the head of the bed, putting a hand on Xephos’ forehead. “..You’re calling a fever “fine”?”

 

“For the time being, yes.” He tries to sit up and miserably fails, only getting up on his shoulders before falling back against the bed as he groans in frustration, “We need to get to the moon, don’t we? I’m not letting o-one--” As his voice gets raspy and raspier, he clears his throat, “One little fever stop progress on the rocket. I can do it.”

 

“So, you’re going to blatantly ignore that you passed out _while_ working on the damn thing." Lalna exclaims, taking off his goggles and tossing them to the floor, running a hand through his hair, "I was worried you were dying or something!”

 

“It won't happen this time, I-I promise, okay?”

 

“No!” Lalna sighs, "I don’t wanna risk you getting worse. I won’t let you get out of this bed until you’re better, okay?” Before he could even start to protest what Lalna had suggested, Lalna was under the duvet with him, wrapping an arm around Xeph’s thin waist.

 

He shivered violently at being able to feel how cold Lalna’s arm was through his shirt, “G-God, you’re freezing.”

 

He scoffs in response, “Now I’m _really_ not letting you get up. If you think I’m freezing, I think you might have more than a cold.” He sighs and relaxes, burying his head in to the crook of the spaceman’s neck, looking up to adress him, “Just relax for a little while, okay? Last thing you need right now is more stress about getting to the moon..”

 

Xephos sighs, his cheeks getting warm and brightening with blue blush not only in fever, but in frustration at how weak the scientist makes him. Especially _now_. This was arguably the worst time for his feelings to flare up, and he’s blaming that on Lalna’s now moving hand, finding its way under his sweat-soaked blue and white shirt and up his side, gently rubbing circles a few inches above his hip. It felt like the tension he originally had from Lalna initially touching him has lessened greatly. “Ugh, fine.” He yawns, sniffling as he tries to breathe through his nose. “You can’t blame me if I get you sick, though.”

 

“Even if I do, I’ll take it as a consequence rather than your fever getting worse. I care too much about you for that to happen.” Lalna smiles, “Now, get some sleep, okay?”

 

As his consciousness slowly shuts down, he nods, moving as close as he can to the now very warm scientist and, with a few adjustments, falls asleep with his head on Lalna’s chest.


End file.
